Walking Dead Short Stories
by gezundheit
Summary: Various characters, OCs, or reader insert stories.
1. Chapter 1

I sat on my knees, my whole body shaking. The rest of the group, my _family_ surrounds me, also vulnerable and on their knees. Negan paced about swinging his bloody baseball bat wrapped in glimmering spiked wire. He paced before the group, his sadistic weapon hovering over each person's skull.

Negan stopped, the weapon hovering an inch from my forehead. I clench my fists into the hem of my t-shirt.

"Ah, well you're a sweet little thing, aren't you?" He moved the bat and crouched down, his face uncomfortably close to mine. I blink slowly, clenching my jaw to keep my lip from trembling.

Across the clearing, Carl locks eyes with me, his one visible eye sparking with fury. I try to communicate to him not to worry, but then Negan opens his mouth and I have to remember how to breathe.

"Hey, wanna meet Lucille?" He asks with a dark chuckle. He runs the end of the bat down my face. I squeeze my eyes shut, leaning away from both the weapon and his sour breath. He runs his thumb along my jawbone and I wince at his touch.

"Back off!" Carl snarls from yards away.

Negan's mouth twists into a terrifying smirk as he slowly turns to face Carl.

"Please don't!" My voice is weak and breaks over the words.

Negan backs up so he can see both me and Carl.

"Oho!" he cackles. "Looks like pretty and baby girl over here have a little something going on! Daddy dearest, did you know about this?" Negan steps toward Rick, a carnivorous smile breaking over his face.

Carl meets my eyes again, an anger scaring even me painting his bright eye.

Negan crosses back to me. "Like I said, I have to beat the holy hell out of one of you, and something tells me she'd be the most entertaining choice." His voice trails off, dripping with poison.

"No! Please-" Carl's voice rises in panic and he even moves toward me a bit before a knife is thrust against his throat. "Choose me instead." Carl says, his voice now hard and low.

"And the plot thickens!" Negan exclaims, turning to face the both of us again. "What do you think Daddio? Who should I pick?" He turns to face Rick again, who is looking only at Carl.

I am counting on Rick to choose Carl over me. Carl is the one who needs to live, he's the survivor here. He's the one with people he needs to survive for.

Rick doesn't say anything.

 _Please Rick. Tell him not to hurt Carl._

"You know what? I'll just pick myself." With a single smooth movement, he spins and slams the bat through a skull, blood spraying. "Wow! You are taking this like a champ!" he exclaims.

I wince away from the gruesome sight.

My eyes find Carl and he mouths something at me.

 _It's going to okay sweetheart._

I close my eyes and take a deep, steadying breath. When I open my eyes, they are filled with angry fight. I am not going to let this son of a b- hurt my family.

By the time Negan turns around, his bat dripping with fresh blood, I am ready. I have a plan.

And he is not going to win.


	2. Chapter 2

Arsonist's Lullaby

 _When I was a child, I heard voices_

 _Some would sing and some would scream_

 _You soon find you have few choices_

 _I learned the voices died with me…_

I saw my father, and my mother. I heard my father yelling, throwing things. I felt my mother stroking my hair, heard her low voice humming that same tune, the one she sang until her last day. Then I heard the growls, the groans, the screams, the tearing flesh. Through it all, that singing lasted. Then I felt teeth and fingernails closing in on my skin, the humming and the yelling never stopping until everything goes black. Then there's an eerie darkness and a heavy silence, nearly suffocating. The voices are silent.

 _When I was a child, I'd sit for hours_

 _Staring into open flame_

 _Something in it had a power._

 _Could barely tear my eyes away._

I lurch awake suddenly, in my 'bed'; actually a couch in the in the Grimes' house in Alexandria. My throat is sore, and I hope that I didn't scream and wake up baby Judith. I push myself into a sitting position and pull on my black boots and tug on my jacket. I open the front door almost silently and slip out the frigid air biting at my skin.

I follow the road to the main guard tower and stop at the bonfire at the foot of the tower. I stand close to the flames, my eyes locked on the dancing red and gold. There's a power in the light it gives off, in the way it dances and crackles. The smoke is thick and heavy, drifting up to join the black clouds obscuring the stars.

I hear footsteps behind me, grating on the gravel walkway. I know I should look up, probably have a weapon somewhere near my hand, but I can't take my eyes from the flames.

 _All you have is your fire_

 _And the place you need to reach._

 _Don't you ever tame your demons,_

 _But always keep them on a leash._

"Hey."

I finally manage to look away from the fire and meet the gaze of my approacher.

"Carl." I give him a small smile, then turn back to the fire.

"You okay?" He asks.

I nod. "Did I wake you up?"

"I was already up. I just heard the door open and came to make sure nothing was wrong." His voice is husky with sleep.

"Everything's fine, don't worry." I say, not looking back at him.

He takes a step closer, the back of his hand brushing mine. "Nightmares?" He asks quietly.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath before nodding almost imperceptibly.

Carl's fingers gently weave between mine, slowly and hesitantly.

I push past the instinctual tensing of muscles and subconscious analysis of how to break his arm and disable him.

I didn't used to think like that.

I squeeze his hand, his wide palm warm against mine, narrow and stiff cold.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks carefully.

My automatic answer is no, but then I realize he deserves to know.

"Yeah, uh, it was my- it was my parents- and-" My voice breaks.

He moves then, his arm sliding around my waist and pulling me against him. My hands are between my chest and his. I rest my forehead against his shoulder. I feel him rest his cheek atop my head.

"It's gonna be alright." His grip on me tightens. "I'm not going to let anything hurt you."

A growl echoes from outside the wall, and I hear an undead fist slam into the metal. Carl shifts the slightest bit, so his back is to the wall.

I know I can't rely on him though.

I go back to that instinct telling me how I could have incapacitated him in a fraction of a minute.

The demons inside me will never be tamed. But at least I've got them on a leash.

For now.


End file.
